


Six Christmases

by tuesdaymidnight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:47:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaymidnight/pseuds/tuesdaymidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five times Stiles and Danny unintentionally spent Christmas together, and the one time they did it on purpose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Christmases

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melooza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melooza/gifts).



> You asked for fluffy Stanny fic. And I asked for fluffy holiday fic. So, voila! A love child was created. Happy Holidays, my dear! :)
> 
> Thank you to [OnTheTurningAway](http://archiveofourown.org/users/OnTheTurningAway/pseuds/OnTheTurningAway) for her speedy beta work.

 

Their first Christmas together took place in Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. Danny's twin sisters were born the day Stiles' mom had to be admitted into the hospital for what would be the last time. Stiles and Danny went to different elementary schools, but that year, the first year of middle school, they were in a lot of the same classes -- the smart kid classes.

Their eyes met in recognition in the waiting room, but they didn't say anything to each other. What could they have said?

Danny was excited about getting new siblings, but annoyed that their birth meant they had to miss Christmas.

In stark contrast, Stiles was paralyzed with grief. At 12, he understood what death was, but he didn't truly have a good concept of what it would be like to never hear his mom's laughter again, or ask her for parenting advice 20 years down the road.

It was a very long time before the two Stilinski men put up a Christmas tree again.

* * *

Their second Christmas together was years later, but, well, Stiles didn't like thinking about the Nemeton. Or the reason why he spent Christmas his junior year of high school being restrained in the vet's office with Lydia and Danny, surrounded in a ring of mountain ash while his dad helped a pack of mostly teenage werewolves and the Argents hunt down the demon who had cursed him.

* * *

Their third Christmas together happened just two years later. Stiles was home from college for three glorious weeks of not having to worry about classes or his slob of a roommate. Scott was off with his mom visiting his grandparents in Santa Fe. Lydia had gone to Paris with her sister to escape their parents. The rest of the pack was keeping their distance from Stiles. Being an emissary meant a ritual that involved a whole lot of Stiles getting into the innermost recesses of their minds, and the embarrassment was still fresh.

He wasn't sure Ethan would ever be able to look him in the eye again.

So, with no one else around, Stiles spent Christmas evening slumped down next to Danny on the sofa in Greenberg's parents' basement, at the pseudo-reunion that was taking place with people he barely recognized and had nothing in common with anymore.

“Wanna get out of here?”

“What'd you have in mind?”

“Sex?” Stiles tried to smirk as he said it. As always, he covered his honesty in such a way that a casual joke could get him out of the worst of the visible humiliation. Even though the sting of rejection wouldn't hurt any less, at least he could make it look like it didn't.

“Okay, sure.”

"Wait. What? Really? Are you fucking with me?"

"I did offer sophomore year," Danny said with a shrug. Stiles wondered if he wasn't the only one who used a cheeky smile as a defense mechanism.

Both of their houses were out of the question -- Stiles had gone to the party mostly to escape the single, lonely cop club meeting that was happening at his dad's house because Melissa was out of town. Then Stiles remembered that he knew where the Martins hid the spare key to their pool house.

They had to make a quick stop at Danny's house to retrieve lube, and Stiles gave Danny a hard time the whole drive for not keeping some in his car.

"You're telling me you keep lube in your car?"

"I keep exorcism tongs in my Jeep. Of course I have lube."

Danny pretended that Stiles was kidding about the exorcism tongs.

That was how Stiles ended up spending the last few moments of Christmas with Danny bending him over a deck chair, jeans around his knees because it was too cold to fully undress.

Danny was a little rough with Stiles as he fucked into him hard and steady, and it was good. Really good. Stiles was never good at topping; although he enjoyed it, he never quite had that ability to hit the right spot or get the right angle or keep the right pace. He was so wound up with nervous energy, bottoming was one of the few things he could do that allowed him to just let go.

“We should do this again sometime,” Stiles suggested after, when Danny was still on his knees in front of him, licking his lips before helping a now boneless Stiles get his jeans and boxers back up.

Danny made a noncommittal noise in response, but Stiles took it as a good sign when Danny kissed him before they left the pool house.

* * *

Their fourth Christmas together wasn't technically Christmas. It was the next year, and Stiles’ semester had been a killer one. He slept for the first two days of his break, only resurfacing to eat. But all his plans of having a quiet Christmas with just him and his dad went out the window when it turned out there was a disgruntled witch with a grudge against lycanthropes in Beacon Hills. Being an emissary had a host of responsibilities and little reward, so he spent most of Christmas day holding down Isaac, who was coming down from a wolfsbane-laced knife attack from said witch. It would have been a cut and dry fix, but Isaac had also been doused in a poison made from a particularly toxic species of milkweed, which caused a chemical reaction that involved a weird blue smoke puffing out of the scratches all over his body.

It was nearly dawn by the time Stiles was able to remove the majority of the poison and the smoke dissipated enough for Derek to be able to take over the watch. Stiles was so weak from the energy drain required to keep a werewolf alive, he dialed the first person who came to mind to ask for a ride home.

Danny answered on the third ring, and came to pick him up with no questions asked.

"Hey, why'd you call me of all people?" Danny asked, sounding genuinely curious and not accusatory as he pulled up to the Stilinski’s house.

"I know how early you get up."

Stiles was so tired, he missed the appearance of Danny's dimples at these words.

* * *

Their fifth Christmas together was, on Stiles account, a happy accident. Stiles happened to run into Danny at the grocery store the day before Christmas picking up last minute ingredients for holiday cooking. Stiles had always been affected by Danny, and seeing him in a green cashmere sweater and slim cut jeans that made him look like a GQ model weakened his sense of self-preservation entirely. In lieu of a normal greeting, he blurted out that Danny should come over the next night. Stiles explained in a rush that his dad drew the short straw at the station and had to work Christmas night, and Stiles didn't feel up to attending the party at the Argents because of something that went down with a golem that he didn’t want to get into in the middle of the grocery store.

Danny put a hand on Stiles’ arm to shut him up. “Okay,” he said simply. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Stiles nearly dropped the carton of eggs he was holding.

Sex in an actual bed with Danny was pretty fucking awesome. Danny had kept up his lacrosse-player’s physique in college and was in incredible shape. He was strong enough for positions Stiles had only seen in _The Gay Kama Sutra_ , and Stiles was grateful that the yoga class he took that semester counted as a physical education credit.

Stiles found out after that Danny hadn't been lying back in high school when he said he liked to cuddle. They were wrapped up in each other, too lazy to move, when Stiles blurted out, “I don't just want this to be an annual winter break hookup, you know.”

Danny didn't say anything for a few beats, and then he replied, “We didn't do this last year.”

“Biennial winter break hookup then.”

Stiles was sure he screwed everything up when Danny started carefully extracting himself from Stiles' tangle of limbs, but then he realized that Danny wasn't getting out of bed, just putting enough distance between him so he could roll onto his side and see Stiles' face. Stiles started to hope.

“What are you saying, Stiles?”

“I like you, Danny. I've liked you for years. Even when you thought I was fucking with you about being bi. And this will be super embarrassing to me later if it turns out I'm wrong, but I think you like me too. I'm fluent in sarcasm, you know, I can tell when you’re hiding behind it. And the reason why I can tell is because I _know_ you. I think we could be really good together.”

Danny looked surprised, which gave Stiles another jolt of hope. He thought the torch he carried for Danny was so obvious it was something Danny politely didn’t mention to spare his feelings. But then, Danny had never been afraid of being blunt.

When Danny finally responded, it wasn’t with what Stiles expected. “It's not just you, though. It’s never going to be just you. You come along with a werewolf pack and shit I thought only existed in Dante.”

“I know it's a lot, I do. But you never seem freaked out by it. That’s one of the things I really like about you, you know. You’re level-headed when shit gets weird.” Danny snorted. “But the pack doesn’t need me to be around all the time, and I think maybe I need something apart from all that. Something good and not from Dante.”

Of course, it was at that moment that Stiles’ phone had to ring. His dad had been on a routine house call and cornered what appeared to be a man who had half turned into an owl. It turned out to be a nagual who tried to shapeshift too close to a witch’s wards. Stiles told Danny to stay as he pulled on clothes and grabbed the right spellbook off his desk, but by the time he got back in the wee hours of the morning, Danny was gone.

But he had left a note on Stiles’ desk that said, “This isn't no. I just need some time.”

* * *

_Four years later..._

The argument was always who was going where for which holiday. It was easier after Stiles' dad married Melissa so they didn't have to schedule a separate time to also see the McCalls -- Stiles' second family. But since Christmas was also Danny's sisters' birthday, they had to make time to see them as well. Figuring out the timing had been a pain the previous three years, so they decided to host Christmas at their place instead.

It was a shock to both their families when Stiles and Danny decided to move back to Beacon Hills, especially after spending two years in San Francisco while Stiles finished his MBA. Danny's job gave him rein to work anywhere he could plug in a computer and access the internet, and Stiles got a job with a start-up company, Geek Me Hard, that sold geeky t-shirts and paraphernalia online. The CEO was opening an office in Beacon Hills in an effort to escape the “soul-sucking corporate lifestyle.” Stiles didn’t have the heart to tell him that soul-sucking was a literal possibility in Beacon Hills.

Danny and Stiles were renting a condo downtown. It had an outdoor entrance, a necessity to receive unexpected werewolf visitors, but it was in the “trendy” area of Beacon Hills -- close to the Whole Foods and the indie movie theater -- so it felt different from the neighborhoods where Danny and Stiles grew up.

Danny convinced Stiles to put up a real Christmas tree. Stiles complained about it because he was constantly shooing away their cat, Lady Shiva, when she tried to eat the needles, but Danny often caught Stiles staring at the tree with a wistful smile on his face.

They spent Christmas morning together, just the two of them. Both their families invited them over for the traditional opening of presents, but they mostly got money and gift cards anymore, and it felt right to spend it together. Christmas was supposed to be a time to share with family, but in their nearly four years together, they were getting to that feeling of being anchored and secure when they were together.

They had their own gift exchange, private gifts they wouldn't have opened in front of anyone else anyway. Every year Stiles bought Danny a Costco-sized bottle of lube, partly as a joke but also because they seemed to go through it quickly.

They put it to use that morning, lazily fucking underneath the covers. They were on their sides, nearly fused together, Danny curved around Stiles’ back, thrusting into him slowly, until Danny pulled out and rolled Stiles onto his back so he could look down at Stiles and kiss him softly. Stiles brought his legs up to wrap around Danny, pulling him even closer. He felt Danny smile against his lips.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“Nothing,” Danny replied. “I’m just...happy.”

“Me too,” Stiles said, responding with a smile of his own. “Now make me come.”

Danny laughed, but he did follow Stiles’ order quite admirably.

They went all out for Christmas dinner, and spent most of the afternoon cooking.

Hawaiian-Polish fusion probably wasn't going to become a trend among foodies, but enough years had passed that Stiles saw making pierogies and bigos as a way to celebrate his mom instead of a trigger for his grief. So they made those together, and then Danny taught Stiles how to make poi and poke. In lieu of a luau pig, they made a ham. It was a mismatched menu, but, like their relationship was a mismatch of business meetings and supernatural baddies and Star Wars action figures and broken electronics that Danny was always tinkering with, somehow it worked together.

With Danny's parents, sisters, and grandmother, along with the Stiles' dad, Melissa, Scott, Allison, Isaac, and even a brief appearance by Chris, their condo was full. Nearly half the people there didn't know they were in the presence of two werewolves, but it all ended up okay. Better than okay.

The only slightly awkward interaction was that one of Danny's sisters had a horribly obvious crush on Isaac. The way the 13-year-old was trying to flirt with the horrified but unfailingly polite Isaac was tragic, in the sense that Stiles had to excuse himself to "check on dessert" twice during dinner, only to collapse into a fit of silent laughter until his composure was regained.

Ultimately, dinner was a success. There was raucous laughter as they went around the table sharing childhood Christmas memories, and a few tears as Stiles recounted stories about cooking with his mom. But talking about her didn’t hurt as much as it usually did. For the first time he could remember, the hollow feeling his mom’s absence always left, that made him want to escape from all the merriment and glad tidings, was full of familial warmth.

Eventually everyone was full to the point of drowsiness, and they drifted back to their respective homes as the evening wore down.

Once the cleaning up was nearly finished, Stiles' collapsed on the sofa and stared at the tree. He was so tired that the lights were starting to blur into bright, colored patches dancing across his field of vision.

“Hey,” Danny's voice was soft. Stiles hadn't heard him come into the living room, but his presence didn't startle him.

Danny sat down and arranged them so Stiles could lean back against his chest. Stiles didn't say anything for a few minutes, just letting the rise and fall of Danny's breathing ground him the way it always did.

“Let's always do this,” Stiles said.

“Fine, but we're hiring someone to do the dishes next time. My fingers are never going to de-prune.”

“That's not what I meant. I mean, we can host Christmas dinner again, but I just meant...this. Us.”

Danny pressed a kiss against Stiles' neck.

“What are you saying, Stiles, is this a proposal?”

Stiles squirmed a little.

“No. I don't know. Maybe. Yes. Yeah, why not? I love you, you love me. We have a cat.”

“Because it’s so confusing for Shiva that we aren’t married.”

Stiles elbowed Danny playfully. “We don’t have to if you don’t--”

“I want to, Stiles. Of course I want to. The thought of chaining you to me for life has occurred to me more than once.” He tightened his arms around Stiles.

“Can I be there when you tell Jackson?” Stiles said as he escaped Danny’s grip and turned around to straddle Danny’s lap.

Danny smirked. “Only if you record it.”

“Best Christmas ever,” Stiles said, before closing the distance between their lips.

 

  
_The End_.

 


End file.
